


The Mystery of Derek Hale a.k.a. Screw You Scott!

by nightlight9



Series: Sterek Week 2019 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Beta Derek Hale, M/M, Roommates, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 02:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlight9/pseuds/nightlight9
Summary: Something is going on with Stiles’ roommate, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.





	The Mystery of Derek Hale a.k.a. Screw You Scott!

“You don’t understand, Scott,” Stiles hisses into his receiver. He’s laying on his bed glaring across the room as though that will be enough to somehow answer all of his questions. “There is something seriously wrong with him.”

Over the phone, Scott sighs. “Stiles, I think you’re over exaggerating. There’s nothing wrong with your roommate.”

Throwing his arm into the air in defeat, Stiles groans. “Aren’t you supposed to agree with everything I say? Isn’t that what best friends are for?”

When Scott laughs, Stiles’ scowls, though it’s more fond than threatening. “I don’t think it says anywhere in our friend contract that I have to agree with you when you’re being crazy.”

“Then we need to amend the contract immediately.”

There’s some shuffling from over the receiver as Scott bustles around. “Listen dude, I’m sure you’re just overthinking this because Derek isn’t me and you kind of resent him for it.”

That’s a low blow coming from Scott. They had been planning on being roommates for years before they started college. And then Scott decided that he wanted to take a year off before going back to school, leaving Stiles all alone to deal with a stranger. And yeah, maybe Scott would normally be right in his assumption. But he’s wrong about Derek. “No, Scott, listen-.”

“Stiles, I have work in an hour and I still have to shower. I can’t listen while you complain about Derek again. Just, get to know the guy. He’s probably not as bad as you think he is. Hell, you guys might get along so well that I’ll have to come down and kick his ass to defend my best friend title.” The image makes Stiles snort. There’s no way that soft, lovable Scott could take on all the muscles that Derek has. “Talk to him. I’ll call you later.”

“Yeah, okay.” He lets Scott hang up without protesting, then rolls over onto his back with a groan. Really, Scott doesn’t understand. He’s not being crazy. There are just too many things about Derek that Stiles can’t make sense of.

As though he was summoned from Stiles’ errant thoughts, the dorm door opens and Derek shoulders his way inside. He’s wearing his signature leather jacket over a grey Henley and jeans that are sinfully tight, and he looks _good_. He always looks good. It’s something that Stiles is still coming to terms with. 

As soon as the door closes, Derek glances over at him. His nostrils flare as though he’s trying to sniff out an enemy, and Stiles closes his eyes. This is what he was trying to tell Scott. Derek does some really weird things, like relying on his sense of smell in a completely abnormal way. 

“Hey,” he draws out the word, rolling over onto his side. 

Derek has crossed the room and is standing at his desk, unloading a stack of books from his backpack. He glances over at Stiles, surprised that he’s talking to him. And okay, Stiles has never really tried to talk to him, not after Derek shut down any attempts at conversation while they were moving in by grunting in response to whatever Stiles said. But he’s still vaguely insulted by the confused tone Derek has in regards to a simple hello.

Still, he pushes on. “How’s it going?”

Derek narrows his eyes, staring at him for a long moment. “Fine.” His voice is curt, and Stiles thinks that will be the end of it. But then he asks, “How are you?” It sounds like a threat as much as a question, and Stiles wonders, not for the first time, why Derek seems so guarded.

He decides to be honest. “I’m already tired of general ed classes, and need to find the energy to finish my political science homework. But other than that I’m alright.”

Derek almost smiles, which makes Stiles’ heart thump uncomfortably. Then, as though he’s able to hear it, Derek tilts his head to the side and his smile falls away. “I’m going to the library,” he says, voice void of all emotion and inflection. 

Stiles sighs. That was a fun conversation while it lasted. “Yeah, sure. Have fun.”

He closes his eyes again before Derek has a chance to do anything more than raise his eyebrows, and he doesn’t move until he hears Derek leave. As soon as the door clicks shut, Stiles rolls off the bed and settles in at his desk. Instead of pulling out his homework, he opens his notebook to a clean page and grabs his pen.

>   
**The Mystery of Derek Hale a.k.a. Screw You Scott**  
_Sniffs everything: can he actually smell well, or is it just a weird habit? Can I test this?_  
_Has a bad attitude: seems to hate sunshine and everyday conversations _  
_Is very guarded. Even asking about his day is suspicious _  


It’s not a lot, and Stiles feels a little bad about the second point, but he feels better about writing it down. Because Scott is wrong. Something is going on with Derek, and Stiles is going to get to the bottom of it.

—————

>   
_Growls all the time: scary and strange _  


Stiles knows that this is a weird point to put on his list, but he feels like it’s valid. He’s been doing what Scott suggested, and actually tries to talk to Derek now. At first, he seemed suspicious and reluctant to engage in anything more than daily greetings. But slowly, Derek allows Stiles to prattle on about useless things without immediately leaving the room.

He does growl though. All the time. He growls in response to questions, growls when Stiles tries to pry a little deeper into his personal life. And the one and only time Stiles tried to bring someone back to the room, Derek had growled loud enough that the guy got scared away. Stiles wasn’t really upset about it, the guy was a tool anyway. But seriously, the growling is strange. He’s not sure what it means, but he knows that it’s not normal. Scott thinks that he’s over exaggerating when he brings it up. Stiles thinks that Scott doesn’t know anything. 

“Maybe you were raised by wolves,” Stiles mutters one day. He’s hanging off of the side of the bed, putting more effort into thinking about Derek than the readings he needs to get done for tomorrow’s lecture. 

Across the room, Derek is sitting on his bed with his headphones on, typing away on his laptop. He must hear Stiles though, because his head snaps to the side so that he can stare at him. “What did you say?” His eyes are open wide with surprise that Stiles doesn’t understand. 

“Hm? Oh, nothing. I’m just thinking about this paper I have to write.” Derek doesn’t look convinced. In fact, it looks like he wants to argue. Instead, he just clamps his jaw tight and growls at Stiles, turning back to his computer. Stiles counts it as a win when Derek stays in the room.

—————

“Derek. Derek. Derek.”

Peeking his head out of their bathroom, Derek snaps, “What?”

Pressing a grin against the side of his arm, Stiles asks, “What’re you doing?”

Stiles would think that the eye-roll he gets in response is glorious, even without being drunk. “Brushing my teeth. Some of us care about our oral hygiene.”

He snickers like a twelve year old. “You said oral.”

Derek grimaces like he’s actually in pain. “Wow, you’re so drunk.”

Trying to sit up, Stiles doesn’t question it when the world spins. “Psh, you’re drunk.” 

“Go to bed, Stiles.” He disappears back into the bathroom and Stiles sighs. Why doesn’t Derek want to be his friend? Why does he hate him so much?

“I don’t hate you,” Derek says softly. He’s sitting on his bed looking confused, and Stiles isn’t quite sure how he got there. 

“You were bushing your teeth.”

Derek blinks. “Stiles, I finished that up minutes ago. Are you alright?”

He’s not fine. Now he’s sad because Derek hates him for no good reason, and that sucks. Why can’t they be friends?

“You want to be my friend?” Derek looks bewildered at that prospect. 

“Duh,” Stiles agrees, rolling onto his back. “And stop reading my mind.”

“I’m not-.” He rubs at his face. “Is this what all drunk people are like?”

Stiles turns his head to the side so that he can stare at him in disbelief. “You’ve never been drunk?” He makes a motion to get up, but Derek is by his side in a moment, pushing him gently down on the bed. “No,” he whines. “Derek. You have to get drunk, right now. It’s very important.”

Huffing a laugh, Derek shakes his head. “I can’t get drunk, Stiles. And what’s important here is that you get some rest.”

He wants to argue more. He wants to go back over to Leia’s bedroom and steal the rest of the bottle of whiskey they had been drinking earlier. But sleep sounds too nice. 

“You win this round, Mr. Hale. But one day, one day I’ll get you.”

Rolling his eyes, Derek pulls Stiles’ blanket up and over him. “Whatever you say, Stiles.” Before he goes and gets in his bed, Derek pauses. “And I don’t hate you, alright. I’m just not-. It’s hard for me to get to know people.”

Stiles pats at his arm, feeling better. “Good.”

Derek smiles slightly, and then moves across the room to climb into his bed. Before he falls asleep, Stiles tells him, “Good night, Derek. Sweetest dreams.”

He doesn’t notice when Dark presses a smile into his pillow and responds, “Sweetest dreams.”

In the morning, he remembers to add to his growing list.

>   
_Has never been drunk_  
_May be able to read minds_  


—————

After his drunken night, things between Stiles and Derek warm up. Derek makes more of an effort to talk to Stiles, and he starts letting him know more about his life. He even introduces Stiles to his friends (all of whom are too pretty to be real, and Stiles adds _might be a male model_ to his list of Derek Hale mysteries).

And it’s nice. Scott was actually right that, given the chance, he does come to view Derek as one of his friends. He still thinks that Derek is weird, and he still adds random points to his list when he thinks of something new. But solving the mystery of Derek Hale falls to the wayside in favor of actually becoming his friend. Besides, talking to Derek more actually gets him closer to solving the mystery (or so he tells himself).

One of the stranger quirks about Derek (which Stiles still hasn’t figured out), is that he always knows when Stiles is lying. No matter how small or how big the lie is, Derek always knows that he isn’t being honest. It’s actually very frustrating. 

“If you had finished the assignment when I told you to last night, you wouldn’t be freaking out right now and then you’d be able to come to dinner with us.”

Stiles growls at him (he may actually be spending too much time with Derek if he's picked up that habit), glaring over his computer screen. “I’m not freaking out. And I did finish the assignment, you just won’t believe me.”

Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “I know that you didn’t. Stay here and finish it. You can come with us next time.”

It’s not fair. Sure, maybe he hasn’t finished his assignment, but he’s not worried about it. If he wants to go to dinner with Derek and his friends, he should be able to. Why does Derek get to tell him not to go? And how does he know that Stiles is lying anyway? Stiles knows for a fact that he is a great liar. Many people have told him that, including his father (with a lot of regret). How does Derek see through him?

“I finished the assignment!”

Derek shrugs his leather jacket on and grabs his wallet. “No you didn’t. Stiles, I’m not trying to be mean. But I know how freaked out you get when you push your deadlines. So please, stay here and finish it.”

That makes Stiles deflate. There’s not point arguing. Derek knows better. And, how could he argue with him anyway when he sounds so concerned. 

“Fine. Whatever. Bring me back some bread.”

A smile curls Derek’s lips up. “Of course. Good luck, Stiles.”

Stiles grumbles as Derek leaves, ignoring how his heart is racing at soft way Derek says his name.

—————

“What the hell happened?” His voice is pitched high, but he can’t help it. There’s a gash on Derek’s shoulder that Stiles can see through his ripped shirt, and a purple bruise marring the edge of his jaw. Scrabbling to his feet, Stiles stumbles over himself to get over to the door where Derek is standing.

As Stiles approaches him, Derek curls his shoulders so that he can tuck his body against the side of the door. “Leave it, Stiles.” His voice is strained, and he sounds tired. 

Stiles gaps at him. “Leave it? Are you kidding me.” His hands flutter in front of him for a moment. He’s never touched Derek before, which gives him pause. But he can’t let this one go. His hands prod gently at Derek’s shoulder, and he winces when the contact makes Derek hiss.

“Stiles, please don’t.”

He’s never heard Derek sound so soft, and because of that, he wants to listen. But there is an anxious energy thrumming in his chest that feels too much like a panic attack for him to ignore. “Derek. Let me help, please. I need-.”

There must be something in his voice that gives away his anxiety, because Derek turns to watch him. They stay there, staring at each other, before Derek slowly pulls away. Immediately, panic seizes Stiles. But Derek doesn’t go far. He only moves back far enough that he’s able to pull his tee shirt over his head, giving Stiles full access to his injuries. 

There are a collection of bruises across his ribs and a nasty slash on his hip just above the edge of his jeans. Carefully, Stiles presses his hands against Derek’s chest, tracing his fingers from one bruise to another. It’s should unnerve him, being so close to Derek, but it doesn’t.

“What happened?”

Underneath his fingers, Derek stiffens. “Don’t worry about that, Stiles.” He wants to protest, but something in Derek’s eyes makes him hesitate. “Please.”

Swallowing, Stiles nods. “Okay. Just-. Are you safe?”

The question makes Derek’s lips quirk up, just a little. “Yes. Everything is safe.”

Just like that, the rest of the tension leaves Stiles’ body. His voice is fierce when he responds, “Good. Now, wait here. I have a first aid kit.”

Scrambling to the bathroom, he sends silent thanks to Scott and his mom for thinking ahead enough to give the first aid kit to him as a graduation present. It’s a monster of a kit, filled with everything Melissa thought that he might need one day, and he grabs it from under the sink with a victorious sound. 

Derek stays where he was at perched in the doorway until Stiles comes back, and Stiles takes a moment to look at him before saying, “Come sit down.” Slowly, Derek follows Stiles over to his desk. He sits prim and proper as Stiles cleans and bandages his cuts. There isn’t much that he can do for the bruises, but at least the worst of the damage is taken care of. 

When he’s done, Stiles sits on his bed and watches while Derek lifts his arm to test the bandages. “Thank you.” He sounds soft, softer than Stiles has ever heard him. It makes Stiles want to pull him close and protect him from whatever trouble he was in. 

He doesn’t do that. Instead, he smiles gently and says, “Anytime.” There isn’t really anything else after that. Derek watches him for a moment, and it looks like he wants to say something as much as Stiles does. They both keep quiet, and eventually Derek gets up and readies himself for bed. Stiles tucks himself into his covers and lays on his side, waiting until he hears Derek’s breathing even out before he carefully gets out of bed and gets his notebook.

>   
_May be in some sort of trouble. Gang activity? A fight gone wrong?_  


Writing this note leaves him feeling dirty in a way that his investigation never has before. Somehow, this feels more real. But now, instead of wanting to know what’s going on with Derek, all Stiles wants to do is protect him.

—————

Light streams through the open window, and Stiles curses Derek for being such a morning person. He stayed up way to late listening to Derek’s soft, even breathes and making sure that he was actually alright. More than once, he had to resist getting up to make sure that he wasn’t bleeding through the bandage on his shoulder, so the early morning interruption is anything but welcome. 

Squinting his eyes open, Stiles does his best to glare over at where Derek is sitting at his desk finishing a report. Stiles opens his mouth, ready to bemoan his existence, when he notices something. The bruise on Derek’s jaw is gone. 

Sitting up quick enough that it actually makes him dizzy, Stiles stares at Derek with his mouth open. 

“Stiles?” Derek turns to look at him. He’s wearing an oversized grey hoodie and sweats, and his voice is soft even though it’s filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Rubbing at his eyes, Stiles stares at Derek’s jaw. “What-? Where did your bruise go?”

Derek freezes, eyes widening in panic. Stiles gets off the bed, crowding closer so he can’t run away. “Take off your shirt.” Derek flinches. “I’m serious. Let me see.” He’s awake, so much more awake than he had been only minutes before. 

He doesn’t think that Derek is going to comply. It looks like Derek would rather throw himself out of the window than do what Stiles says. But after a drawn out staring contest, Derek reaches back and tugs his hoodie off. 

The bruises on his chest, like the one that had been on his jaw, are all gone. There isn’t even the lingering green color giving away that they had been there in the first place. With shaking hands, Stiles reaches out and peels the bandage off of his shoulder. The smooth tan skin, unblemished except for a small smear of dried blood, makes Stiles shiver. 

“What the hell,” he breathes, running his hand over Derek skin, not caring how intimate it feels.

“I didn’t think about you seeing them,” Derek says finally. “I-. I forgot that you didn’t know.”

He wants to ask just what the hell Derek is, but absurdly, he doesn’t want to make Derek run away from him. “You’re healed.”

“Yes. I-.” They fall into an unsteady silence. Then Derek sighs, and meets his gaze. “You’re not going to ask?”

Stiles exhales. It’s a shaky sound. “I want to.” Gods, does he want to. He’s spent weeks trying to figure it out, for crying out loud. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me.” What’s more honest is that Stiles doesn’t want Derek to leave. They’ve just got to a place where they’re friends, and it’s good. He likes having Derek in his life, and going back to what they were before, living beside each other without interacting, it would be excruciating. Now that he knows what it’s like to have Derek around, he doesn’t want to go back to that. He doesn’t want Derek to run.

Derek is watching him with a look of surprise. He looks even more surprised when he says, “I want you to know.” 

Stiles can’t help but narrow his eyes. “Really? Because, up until a few weeks ago, I thought that you hated me. Now you want to tell me your secrets?

Despite the tense situation, Derek rolls his eyes. “I didn’t ever hate you, Stiles. I-. It’s hard for me to get close to people, and I was worried that you would figure out what I was. Putting up walls between us was easier than letting you in.” He takes a deep breath. “But that’s changed now. We’re friends. I came back to the room last night instead of staying with Boyd because this room makes me feel safe. You make me feel safe, and I forgot that you didn’t know my secret.”

His heart is racing, both from what Derek is saying and with the prospect of finally solving the mystery of Derek Hale. What sticks out to him the most though is, “I make you feel safe?”

Huffing a laugh, Derek reaches out slowly and takes his hand. Stiles watches, fascinated, as their fingers curl together. “Yes. Stiles. Last night you nearly had a panic attack because I wasn’t going to let you look at my injuries. You took care of me, and made sure that whatever had hurt me was taken care of. And then you didn’t ask any questions. Even before that, even when we were becoming friends, you respected my boundaries and let me set the pace. It drove you crazy, but you did it anyway. And even though you were trying to take notes and figure out what the hell was wrong with me, you still gave me my space.”

A flush heats up Stiles’ face. “You know about that?” His voice cracks in embarrassment, and Derek laughs. 

“I could hear you when you called Scott and gave him updates on the situation while I was in the shower. At first I was worried you would figure it out. Then I was just amused by the whole thing. You weren’t malicious about it, you just wanted to know what was going on.”

Stiles blows out a breath, tightening his grip on Derek’s hand. “You could hear me.” Derek nods. Stiles’ mind is spinning, trying to piece everything together. “You can tell when I’m lying.” Another nod. “And your injuries heal overnight.”

“Sometimes faster,” Derek agrees, watching Stiles with bright, curious eyes.

“You can smell really well, and you growl at everything.”

Derek laughs. “Yes. You know when you lost that bottle of Axe your friend sent you?”

Stiles gaps at him. “You took it, didn’t you?” He pulls away from Derek to glare at him, but doesn’t move back far enough that they’re forced to let go of one another. Derek pulls Stiles back toward him with a laugh.

“It smelled terrible, and I hated it.”

“That’s just rude,” Stiles says, mock indignation coloring his tone. 

Derek just shrugs. HIs smile doesn’t falter when he asks, “Have you figured it out?”

Stiles huffs. No, he hasn’t. It doesn’t-. It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing about Derek adds up. “Unless you are Wolverine, no I haven’t.”

Titling his head to the side and looking thoughtful, Derek says, “I guess that’s not too far off.” Stiles squints at him, which seems to make Derek a little nervous. “Okay, just-. Don’t freak out?” Using his free hand, Stiles gestures for Derek to go on.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m a werewolf.”

Stiles doesn’t react. It’s as though time stops in their room while he thinks it over. It shouldn’t make sense. Werewolves have always been a thing of fiction, not college roommates. But the more he thinks it over the more he can believe it. Sure, he’s going to do a shit ton of research as soon as he can, but he trusts Derek enough to give it a chance. 

“Okay.”

Derek blinks at him in surprise. “Okay? I-? You believe me?”

HIs fingers tighten on Derek’s hand when it seems like he’s going to pull away. “I trust you,” he says honestly. His words make Derek shiver. “So what, do you turn into a wolf when the moon is full? Or are you more _American Werewolf in London_.”

When Derek rolls his eyes in a familiar way, Stiles feels more balanced. “Neither. I can shift at anytime, first of all, not just on nights of the full moon. And most werewolves will never achieve a full wolf shift.”

“Can you?” Derek talks about being a werewolf in such a blasé way that further establishes that he’s being honest. And Stiles is excited, not only about learning more about Derek, but also by learning about something that most people don’t know is real. When Derek nods, he asks, “Can I see?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Derek says slowly. “Not right now. Even though you seem alright, it’ll be better to ease you into that so you’re not shocked. But,” he sounds nervous, “I could show you my beta shift, if you’d like. It’s the shift that all werewolves can achieve, and it should be easier to handle than having me turn into a giant wolf right before your eyes.”

Swallowing, Stiles nods. “I want to see.”

Carefully, Derek pulls his hand away from Stiles, flexing it while his nails turn into claws. Stiles is enraptured by the sight, reaching out to take Derek’s hand back in his. He turns it over and runs his fingers across Derek’s claws, making sure not to cut himself. “Woah.” He looks back up at Derek, ready to tell him how cool and crazy that is, and his breath catches. Derek’s face has changed. He still looks like Derek to an extent, but he has fangs instead of his sweet little bunny teeth, his eyebrows are gone, and his eyes are glowing bright blue. “Woah.”

Reaching out and being all too aware how his hands are shaking, Stiles runs his fingers across Derek’s cheeks. “You’re not afraid.” His voice sounds funny around his fangs, and Stiles smiles. 

“Am I supposed to be?” Derek huffs out a laugh of his own as his eyes close. He looks like he’s enjoying the way that Stiles’ fingers caress his face. Stiles likes being about to touch. “Does it hurt when you shift?”

“No. I was born a werewolf, so I’m used to it.” His eyes open slightly, just slits of brilliant blue, and it hits Stiles that Derek is still shirtless. He’s practically standing in between his legs, running his fingers across Derek’s face, and he hadn’t even noticed that Derek wasn’t wearing a top. Now that he’s noticed though, it’s all that he can think about.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice is husky and weighted. Stiles swallows. His mouth is dry. With a smirk, Derek opens his eyes further, and the look he gives Stiles could set him on fire. “I can hear your heart racing.”

It should make him feel embarrassed, but it doesn’t. There’s something about the way that Derek is smiling, something in the tone of his voice that makes Stiles feel brave. He steps closer, letting his hands drop to curl around Derek’s neck. “You’re amazing,” he breathes, watching Derek closely. 

Mindful of his claws, Derek reaches out to grip Stiles’ waist. Slowly, he shifts back until he looks like Derek again, green eyes bright. “I have another secret,” he says, voice low. “I want to kiss you.”

Stiles laughs. “That’s my secret too,” he whispers back, licking his lips. Derek watches the movement, and then, in typical Derek fashion, he growls. Stiles opens his mouth to make a comment about it, ready to tease him about actually being raised by wolves. But then he’s being pulled down enough so that Derek can press their lips together, and everything else falls away.

So Derek is a werewolf, so what? Kissing Derek seems so much more exciting than that. He’ll have time to ask all of his questions later. For now, he’s happy just to fold himself down on Derek’s lap, curling his arms around his neck to hold him close.

—————

“I’m telling you,” Stiles says into his phone, “there is something seriously wrong with Derek.”

Scott groans. “Not this again, Stiles please.”

Pressing a smile into his pillow, Stiles continues talking as though Scott had never interrupted him. “I mean, who likes pineapple on pizza. It’s a huge crime!”

“Stiles, I love you man, but can we talk about something else? Anything else? I’m so tired about hearing about Derek.” Stiles reaches his free hand across the bed, threading his fingers into Derek’s hair and marveling at the way that Derek leans into it. “You really need to let this thing with him go. Dude, you guys are friends now! So he has a few weird quirks, so what? You really should just admit that you have a thing for him!”

Beside him, Derek snorts. Stiles smacks at his shoulder and pulls his body over enough that he can drape himself across Derek’s back. “Oh? Didn’t I tell you? I solved the mystery of Derek Hale.” Turning his head and watching him with a curious expression, Derek almost looks worried that Stiles might actually give his secret away. It makes Stiles roll his eyes. “He totally wanted to bone me,” he announces, cackling when it makes Scott groan and Derek raise his eyebrows and mouth, ‘bone?’

“Great, so now I’m going to hear about him even more, aren’t I?” He doesn’t sound excited about that prospect. 

“He’s weird and amazing, what do you expect? Listen though, I have to let you go. I have him in bed right now, and shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Scott makes a gagging sound and hangs up without a goodbye, making Stiles laugh.

“He’s never going to talk to you again,” Derek says, rolling over as best he can without dislodging Stiles. 

When they’re comfortably rearranged, Stiles says, “Yes he will; he’s my best friend. And that was payback for all the times I’ve had to listen to him pout over girls.” He tucks his head down against Derek’s chest, enjoying that he can hear his heartbeat for a change. Tucked so close to him, Stiles feels safe and warm. He’s so happy that he got Derek as his roommate.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for day one of Sterek Week 2019, for the mystery theme.


End file.
